Page 30 of How Not to Marry a Duke

“I can show you more machines when we return to Town,” he said. “This is just the beginning.”

She may not agree with his idea of machines replacing workers, but she was struck by his intelligence and ingenuity. He was no ordinary aristocrat. No ordinary man, for that matter. She gave him a sidelong look. “You studied mathematics?”

“Mathematics, physics, and engineering at Oxford. However, not all these inventions are my own. I enjoy taking a prior invention, then improving it. Innovation, I believe, is the best way to help others.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

He tapped his temple. “I can’t think of it any other way. Every time I look at a piece of machinery, a simple household item in the kitchens, or a tool used in my stables, my mind churns with ways to improve that device.”

Ordinary people never gave such items a second glance. She couldn’t imagine the thoughts swirling in the duke’s head. What must it be like?

“I also like to collect things,” he said.

What else captures his interest? She scanned the crowded room. “What type of things?”

“Archeology rarities. Historical books. Anything that interests me.”

“I like to collect herbs and plants.” She wasn’t sure why she added that fact. Perhaps she wanted him to know that she also desired to help others and had vast interests, as well.

“I’m not surprised. When I return home, I plan to research the aloe vera plant.”

Her mother had brought other plants and herbs from the Middle East. Would he be interested in them or judgmental like Edwin? And why did his opinion matter? The less she cared, the better. Their arrangement was a matter of expedience, nothing more.

“You told me you burned your arm doing an experiment with gunpowder. Is that invention here?” She turned the topic of conversation to something more clinical.

He shook his head. “No. That mishap occurred in my London workshop. As I said earlier, my workshop is much larger in Town, and most of my work is housed there.”

She couldn’t envision it. How many more items had he collected? She’d never paid much attention to London gossip, but she vaguely recalled hearing the whispers of a reclusive duke. A mad duke. As far as she could tell, Warwick wasn’t mad, but highly intelligent and eccentric.

Her stomach churned, and a different type of apprehension coursed through Adeline. He’d shown her his workshop because she’d insisted that they get to know more about each other. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected a study turned into a mechanical workshop.

What exactly have I gotten myself into?

“Do you see why I’m drawn to my work?” he asked.

“Not entirely, but I suppose I’m catching on. What is your favorite project?”

“A favorite? I’ve never thought to identify one.”

“Really? What about the train?”

“Trains highly interest me, of course. But truth be told, I have trouble focusing on one thing at a time. Every project calls to me, and oftentimes I find it difficult to focus on one and complete it.”

She tilted her head to the side and regarded him with renewed interest. She’d initially believed him to be high-handed, self-entitled, and rude. While he might possess all of those qualities—he was a duke, after all—he was also supremely knowledgeable about an array of topics and exhibited a strong work ethic.

Others likely had shared her first impression of him. Those people also viewed her as odd for having her own ambitions. Her half brother, Edwin, would be first in line.

Still, the Duke of Warwick was unlike any man she’d known. Mad duke and professor? Eccentric intellectual? Arrogant, privileged aristocrat? Perhaps all of the above. He was too different, too dangerous, and he’d dragged her into this mess when he’d announced to Edwin he was courting her. His outburst had left her with little choice but to consent to his crazy plan, and her future remained more uncertain than ever. Her wariness of the man remained, and she needed to be careful.

She wondered how this would all work out in the end. Her only conclusion was that it would work out badly. For her.

Chapter Six

As Warwick escorted Adeline outside, he was conscious of her slim, graceful form. The first time he’d met her, he’d nearly bowled her over when he’d run into her outside of her home. He’d also never imagined she was a lady. But here and now her proper breeding was unmistakable. She clutched slim hands before her as she walked gracefully, looking straight ahead.

He cleared his throat. “Now that you’ve learned a bit about my work and seen my country workshop, does that alleviate your concerns?”

She shot him a disbelieving sidelong look. “Not entirely, Your Grace.”